


Slow Moves

by menel



Series: 30 Days OTP Challenge [4]
Category: X-Men (Movieverse), X-Men - All Media Types
Genre: Camping, First Kiss, M/M, Mutual Masturbation
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-07-11
Updated: 2014-08-10
Packaged: 2018-02-08 10:19:51
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 6,064
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1937172
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/menel/pseuds/menel
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Day 4 of the 30 Days OTP Challenge<br/>Prompt: On a date </p><p><i>Date</i>: [noun] a social or romantic appointment or engagement; a person with whom one has a social or romantic engagement </p><p> </p><p>Since tmelange and 3White_mage3 asked so nicely, I've added a little bonus scene to this fic. Unfortunately, there's still not a lot of porn, but I think there's some nice character development.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Part I originally posted on Tumblr on June 9, 2014.

Logan pushed the baby carrots around his plate. They were chasing his peas, which appeared to have turned into an army about to march on his mashed potatoes. 

“A little old to be playing with your food, aren’t you?” 

Logan looked up just in time to see Summers take the seat in front of him. “You’re the one who keeps saying that I act like a five year old,” he reminded the other man. 

“No,” Scott corrected. “I said you had the _manners_ of a five year old.” 

“Semantics,” Logan retorted. 

Scott paused in the cutting of his roast chicken and gave Logan a small grin. Logan almost – _almost_ – returned it. _The Boy Scout didn’t smile enough_ , he thought absently, looking down at his food. Scott was always so grim, so serious. You’d think the world was in a constant state of peril. Even vigilante superheroes had their downtime. 

“So, about last night,” Scott said, startling Logan a second time. 

Was the Boy Scout actually going to make _conversation_?

“I had a good time,” Summers went on, sounding a little surprised at his own admission. “Do you want to do that again?” 

“Do what?” Logan asked, more irritably than he’d intended. 

“Go –” Scott began, but stopped just as abruptly. He looked puzzled. “I thought, I mean . . .” 

Logan shot the other man a questioning look. Was Mr. Perfect Syntax stuttering? 

Scott let out a little laugh, but Logan got the impression that he was laughing at himself, at some private joke. Summers ran a hand through his hair, the only real sign of perhaps how flustered he’d become. 

“I guess I’m rustier than I thought,” he said at last. “I had a good time, but something like that is . . . relative.” 

Summers seemed to be watching Logan carefully, as though searching for something. There was no way that Logan was going to wilt under that ruby gaze. Apparently, Summers didn’t find what he was looking for because he just shook his head, something akin to a rueful smile on his face. 

“Never mind,” he said, also returning his attention to his meal. 

The timing was good (or poor depending upon one’s perspective) because Hank and Ororo joined them at their table, Ororo sitting beside Scott and Hank taking the vacant spot on Logan’s right. The two other teachers were already deep in a discussion about a new policy that the government was debating on mutant rights and it didn’t take long for Scott to be drawn into the conversation. Hank had asked for Logan’s opinion in an effort to get him involved, but Logan wouldn’t be baited. Even after being at the Xavier School for Gifted Youngsters for over a year, he still felt unsettled, like he could pick up and leave at any minute. But he hadn’t done that yet and Logan often wondered why that was.

* * * * *

Later that afternoon, Logan ran into Chuck as he was headed back to his room. His last self-defense class, which was composed of the youngest students, was the one that always did him in. It may have been the most basic of all his self-defense classes, but the energy level of those kids at the end of the day was bordering on obscene. They completely wiped him out. That was the excuse Logan came up with when Charles caught him unprepared in the hallway.

“Logan,” the Professor greeted him pleasantly. “Done for the day?” 

“Teaching,” Logan agreed, a little wearily. There was still Danger Room training to attend. 

“Ah, the youngest usually cause the most trouble,” Charles noted. 

Logan glanced at the other man, wondering if the Professor had just peeked into his mind. He knew that Chuck respected other people’s mental privacy, but sometimes his comments hinted otherwise. 

“Scott’s mentioned your last class of the day,” the Professor continued by way of explanation, seemingly both confirming and denying Logan’s suspicions. 

Logan merely nodded. “Don’t mean to be rude, Chuck,” he said. “But is there something you wanted?” 

“No,” the Professor replied with a shake of his head. “Just on my way down for a meeting. Things went well last night?” 

“Excuse me?” Logan asked sharply, nearly dropping the key to his room at the Professor’s non sequitur. 

“With you and Scott?” 

At Logan’s bug-eyed expression, the Professor continued, “I suggested to him yesterday that you should . . . go out. Maybe spending some time together alone – away from the team and the students – would be good for you.” 

“That was _your_ idea?” Logan asked incredulously. “Not concerned that we might kill each other on our own?” 

“You and Scott are not as different as you think,” Charles replied. “You may not realize it, but you want the same things.” 

“Sure, Professor,” Logan said, attempting to circumvent any philosophical or moral discussion on how he and the Boy Scout could possibly ‘want the same things.’ 

Charles didn’t look convinced at all, but he gave Logan one of those fatherly indulgent smiles that Logan found both heartwarming and irritating. It was a smile that said, _You may be older than me but I possess wisdom far beyond your years. Trust me on this because I care and want the best for you_. 

“I’ll see you later, Logan,” he said, before going on his way.

Logan shook his head as he finally opened the door to his room. He wasn’t a mean-spirited man and he didn’t begrudge Charles his good intentions. But last night’s bizarre turn of events was starting to make a lot more sense to him. Charles had been the architect of it all. Not that Summers didn’t show initiative. The Boy Scout had _plenty_ of initiative, usually of the get-up-and-go variety that Logan and his jaded personality found trying. But when it came to their ‘relationship,’ Summers was professional and tolerant. Logan would go so far as ‘polite’ on one of Scott’s good days. He wouldn’t describe Summers as a friend. They were teammates, yes. Colleagues, even. But friends? It was a tough sell. 

Yet out of the blue after a one-on-one training session (Logan had come to enjoy those but he’d never admit it) the day before, Summers had suggested going out for a drink, possibly even having dinner. Logan had been so shocked by the invitation that he’d agreed before he’d had a chance to really think about it. Perhaps the idea of seeing the Boy Scout drunk was too much for him to pass up. He could count on one hand the number of times he’d seen Summers have a beer since he’d arrived at Xavier’s school. If they were going out drinking, then they were _drinking_. 

Sadly, Logan never actually did get to see Summers inebriated. He wouldn’t have suspected it but the Boy Scout held his liquor well. He did, however, see Summers loosen up and drop some of those inhibitions. Apparently, when Summers didn’t have a steel rod up his ass, he could carry a conversation. He was even a _good_ conversationalist with a quick wit and a sense of humor that hardly anyone must’ve known about. _This_ , Logan had thought during the course of the evening, _this is what Jean had seen in him_. He’d thought Summers to be dry and boring, staid in a way that good guys who always did the right thing were. Summers represented safety, security and dependability. He still represented all those things, but now Logan understood that he was more than the sum of his parts. He’d also watched as Summers had wiped the floor with him at pool. The whole night. But Scott wouldn’t take any bets and he wouldn’t take Logan’s money. He must’ve known that Logan didn’t stand a chance against him. 

“Okay, Mr. Pool Shark, why are you so good at this?” Logan had finally asked. “They teach you this in geometry?” 

Scott had shrugged uncharacteristically before he’d bent down to effortlessly make another difficult shot. “I used to hustle,” he’d explained as he’d circled the table, planning his next shot. 

“You hustled?” Logan had repeated disbelievingly. 

“I did a lot of things that would surprise you before the Professor found me,” Scott had replied, somewhat evasively. Then he’d launched into a brief explanation about how his line of vision was also his line of sight and that’s why it was so easy for him to calculate angles and trajectories. It was the same way he used his optic beam in battle and what gave him the ability to refract the beam over various surfaces using different angles, thereby allowing it to hit its intended target. “It’s just something I’ve always been good at,” he’d said.

Logan had hidden a smile. Maybe next time he’d be able to get those _other_ answers out of the other man, about what else Scott had done before the Professor had found him. So, the Boy Scout hadn’t always lived a life of luxury and privilege. Scott’s secretive past piqued his interest. 

_Huh_ , he thought as he changed into more comfortable clothes. _Next time_. He was starting to think that there wouldn’t be a next time since he’d inconveniently shot down Scott’s suggestion during lunch before the other man could even properly make it. The thing that had made last night so strange was that there had a come a point when Logan had been certain that they were on a date. That’s probably not what Scott had had in mind when he’d originally asked Logan out, but that was obviously the direction the evening had gone. 

Logan couldn’t pinpoint when things had shifted between them. Maybe it was when he began noticing how much he enjoyed having Scott’s attention on him when the other man wasn’t reprimanding him, or how Summers would gesture with his hands and lean in closer when he was emphasizing a point. Maybe it was when he realized that he liked the other man’s scent – clean and crisp like spring – cutting through the haze and smoke of the bar. Maybe it was the way he began lingering on Summers’ features, or how Summers would carelessly brush against him as he maneuvered around the pool table. Maybe it was when he came to terms with how plainly attractive Scott was – in every way – and how clueless Summers was about it. It had been over a year since Jeannie’s death and Scott didn’t give anyone around him a second look (not even a _first_ look), no matter how many women – and men – had come on to him. How bizarre then that the Boy Scout had ended up on an unexpected date with _Logan_ of all people. 

Because whatever else Logan thought, there had definitely been that moment at the end of the night as they’d crept back into the mansion and tried not to make any noise with everyone else asleep that Logan had lingered unnecessarily in front of Scott’s bedroom, wondering whether or not he should kiss the other man. Scott had looked contemplative himself, possibly thinking the same thing. The tension between them had been tangible. Then Scott had stepped forward at the precise moment that Logan had stepped back and the moment passed. 

“See ya tomorrow, Slim,” Logan had said gruffly, hands stuffed into the pockets of his worn leather jacket. 

“Tomorrow,” Scott had agreed. There was the barest hint of disappointment in his voice. 

Logan had walked away, listening to the sound of Summers opening his door and shutting it softly behind him. He refused to dwell on the idea than he’d just let a great opportunity pass him by.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter was originally posted on Tumblr on June 13, 2014.

Two weeks went by since Logan had gone out on that pseudo-date with the field leader of the X-Men. Logan wasn’t consciously avoiding the other man and he didn’t think that Summers was doing the same. But since that evening, he’d become hyper-aware of Summers’ presence (or lack thereof) and he’d realized how little the two of them interacted outside of training, team missions, occasionally sitting at the same table during lunch and meetings with the Professor. Since Scott hadn’t changed his routine, Logan didn’t feel like he could change his routine either. It felt . . . clingy somehow, and the last thing Wolverine could ever be accused of was being needy. But Logan _did_ want to see more of Scott and in what little interaction they had, particularly at the teachers’ table during lunch, he thought the other man had mellowed a little towards him. Even their training sessions weren’t fraught with such hostility and in the two missions that they’d undertaken, Logan hadn’t had any problems following Cyclops’ orders in the field. 

It could’ve all been in Logan’s head until Hank had commented one day on how pleased he was that, “You and Scott are getting along better.” 

“We are?” Logan asked dubiously. 

“Oh, yes,” Hank said. “It’s quite noticeable.” 

“It is?” Logan’s incredulity levels were rising. 

“When was the last time you picked a fight with him?” 

Logan considered this. 

“My point exactly,” Hank said, sounding a little too smug. 

“Ya know, I don’t _always_ start the fights!” Logan called after him as Hank walked away. 

“I never said you did!” Hank called back, still sounding too smug.

Logan sighed. It was time to do something about Summers, and since _he_ had shot down the other man’s offer of an olive branch (maybe even a date), the onus was on him to come up with a solution.

* * * * *

Logan marched into Scott’s classroom after the last bell had rung. It was the end of the school day and he was met with a rush of students on their way to whatever it was they did when classes were over. Scott was still at the front of the room, talking to Bobby and Marie. Logan didn’t mean to eavesdrop on their conversation but it was hard not to. Marie was asking for clarifications on one of the math problems on the board while Bobby waited patiently. When Scott had answered Marie’s question to her satisfaction, Bobby jumped in with a query of his own, this time about their latest training schedule and if Scott was free for a one-on-one session to work on fine-tuning his control.

 _Interesting_ , Logan thought. The kids were comfortable enough to talk shop with Cyclops after class. 

When Logan reached the three of them, he lingered just outside their group as Scott scheduled an extra session with Bobby. When Summers was done, he turned his attention to Logan and said, “Something I can help you with?”

Logan nodded to Marie who gave him a bright smile as she gathered her belongings. “Yeah, there is,” he replied, looking back at Summers. “I have an idea for a survivalist course I’d like to teach.” 

“A new course?” Scott said, fixing his own things. “That would be great. I have a format you can follow for outlining your proposal.” 

“Dontcha wanna know what it’s about first?” 

“That’s what the proposal is for. I’ll _read_ about it,” Scott answered. 

Logan had to think quickly. This was not going how he’d planned. “It’s a _practical_ course,” he emphasized. “It’s better if I _show_ you.”

“Show me?” Scott repeated. “You means hands on survival skills training?” 

“Exactly,” Logan agreed. “Unless you feel your survival skills are better than mine.” 

Logan could see the moment that Summers went from being Scott Summers, mild-mannered teacher at Xavier’s School for Gifted Youngsters to Cyclops, field leader of the X-Men. He’d thrown in that extra taunt to purposely goad the other man. Cyclops always responded to a challenge. It was the price one paid for being the alpha. 

Logan knew his challenge had the desired effect just by the reaction of the two teenagers in the room. They’d suddenly frozen in what they were doing and exchanged slightly worried looks. The room had grown a tad chilly and that wasn’t Iceman’s doing. Whatever Hank thought about Logan’s ‘noticeable’ improvement in his relationship with Scott that sentiment hadn’t yet filtered down to the student body. 

“All right,” Summers agreed, his stance and tone more wary than it had been before. “We can give your survivalist course a trial run. How about this weekend?” 

“How about this afternoon?” 

“You mean _now_?”

“You got other plans?” 

Scott looked at him with a tight-lipped stare. Logan could feel the annoyance rolling off of the other man and he felt the tiniest bit sorry about how things had gone. He didn’t know who was rustier between the two of them, but this was definitely not Dating 101. 

“Fine,” Scott finally agreed with a sigh. “Give me a rundown of what I’ll need and I’ll pack my gear.” 

There was a small cough and both men turned to look at Bobby and Marie whom they’d forgotten were still in the room. 

“We’ll be going now, Mr. Summers. Thanks for all your help,” Marie said politely. “’Bye Logan,” she added. 

“See ya, kid,” Logan replied. 

“A survivalist course,” Bobby was saying under his breath as the two students left the classroom. “Who do you think is going to come out of it alive?” 

“You know I always back Logan,” was Marie’s reply, an answer that made Logan feel unreasonably proud. 

“Yeah, well. I wouldn’t bet against Cyclops.” 

Logan tuned out their conversation and was left with a mildly displeased Summers, who was waiting on him for further instructions. 

“Here’s what you’ll need, Slim,” he began.

* * * * *

About an hour and a half later, Scott and Logan were trekking through the back woods of the school, Scott in full Cyclops mode. He was grilling Logan on the course as if they were going through mission protocols and to maintain the charade, Logan answered each question patiently and surprisingly thoroughly. The survivalist course had been just a ruse but as Summers made him think about it more and more, it was starting to sound viable and something he might actually enjoy teaching.

He did have a pseudo itinerary for what was left of the afternoon and evening, however, and as they neared the first stop, Logan suddenly turned around and Scott almost walked right into him. 

“Watch where you’re going,” Scott snapped. 

It was time to come clean or Summers would be pissed at him for the rest of the evening. “Scott, there’s something I have to tell you,” he said. 

Scott looked up, evidently piqued. Logan so rarely called him by his first name. 

“There’s no survivalist course,” Logan stated. 

“What do you mean?” Scott asked calmly. Logan recognized the tone as the ‘calm before the storm.’ 

“There’s no survivalist course,” Logan repeated. “It’s just something I said to get you out of there.” 

“Why?!”

Summers looked gobsmacked. It would’ve been comical except that the other man might actually walk out on him and that’s not what Logan wanted. Without really thinking, Logan reached down and grasped Summers’ hand. Summers’ disbelieving expression traveled down to Logan’s hand holding his own before traveling back up again, looking even more perplexed. 

“I just wanted to get you out of there,” Logan said, which he realized wasn’t much of an explanation. 

Summers sighed, but he didn’t release Logan’s hand. “Couldn’t you have just _asked_?” he said, still sounding peeved.

“Not in front of those kids,” Logan answered. 

Scott cocked his head to the right and eyed Logan thoughtfully, his exasperation melting into something more like curiosity. “Had to maintain appearances?” he suggested. The kid was always so quick. 

Logan nodded, releasing Summers’ hand as he turned around and resumed walking. “Would you have come if I just asked?” he threw over his shoulder. 

There was a beat before the other man responded. 

“Probably,” he said and Logan grinned, knowing that Summers couldn’t see.

* * * * *

The school grounds were wide and expansive and Logan brought Scott straight to the rather large pond that the kids (and adults) enjoyed swimming in during the summer. Scott didn’t say anything as they left their gear on the dock and got into one of the rowboats waiting there. Logan rowed them out to the middle of the pond, in perfect position for what he had been planning, while at the same time trying to gauge Summers’ mood. The other man was no longer angry. In fact, he seemed contemplative, watching Logan thoughtfully as Logan rowed.

“Is this a date?” Scott suddenly asked when the boat finally stilled. “I _have_ been on dates before,” he continued, “and this is kind of what it feels like. It’s just . . . I’m not sure with you,” he admitted. “Especially since I misread what happened last time. I just want to know so I don’t do anything . . . foolish.” 

Logan locked the oars in place to prevent them from slipping as he thought of an answer. “You didn’t misread last time,” he finally said. 

Scott gave him a faint smile and nodded. Logan dug into the small pack he’d brought onto the boat, unwrapped a cold beer (he’d had Bobby ice them before they’d left. “Beer is part of a survivalist course?” Bobby had asked. “Just do it, will ya?” Logan had replied) and handed it to Summers. 

“Thanks,” the other man said. 

They drank their beers in silence until Summers paused and said, “Geez, Logan. I didn’t think you were the type to do the big romantic gesture but this? This is really kind of romantic.” 

Logan shrugged off-handedly, but grinned into his beer all the same. Summers had seen what they had come here for. “The classics never go out of style,” he replied. 

“Don’t take this the wrong way but . . .” Scott tapped his sunglasses. “You know I can’t really appreciate the sunset, right?” 

Logan almost choked on his beer. Actually, he _had_ forgotten that rather important detail. Scott basically saw the world in shades of red. He groaned. 

“Hey.” This time it was Scott’s turn to reach out and he caught Logan’s wrist. “In this case, it really is the thought that counts.” 

It was an old, old cliché – the sort of stuff Hallmark cards were made out of – but said with Summers’ honest sincerity it still rang true. Logan gave the other man a wry grin, his gaze glancing to where Scott was rubbing soothing circles on the underside of his wrist with his thumb. That was nice too. 

He grasped Summers’ arm and gave him a little tug. Scott hesitated for a second before carefully shifting over so that he and Logan were sharing the space in the middle of the rowboat. It was a cozy fit but the boat remained balanced.

“Your ideas for a survivalist course are pretty good,” Summers said as Logan slipped an arm around his waist. “If you wanted to pursue that as an actual class.” 

Logan shook his head. “We’re not talking shop _now_ ,” he replied. 

“I’m mentioning it,” Scott went on, “because all that gear we left on the dock? It’s not practical for a survival course, which relies on skills and utilizing the environment. That gear we brought just looks like we’re going camping.” 

“We _are_ going camping.” 

“That’s the plan?” Scott asked, unable to hide his amusement. “Sharing a tent? Is that where you’re going to make your moves on me?” 

“Hey, my moves are classic, bub.” 

“Let’s see what you’ve got, Wolverine.” 

Logan grinned into his beer again, enjoying the relaxed weight of Summers against his side. He could recognize a challenge when he heard one. And just like Cyclops, he knew what to do with a challenge. The alpha always did. 

 

**Fin.**


	3. Bonus Scene

They stayed at the pond until the two of them finished their beers and the sun set behind them. Before it got too dark, Scott shooed Logan back to his previous place in the stern of the boat as he unlocked the oars and rowed them back to shore. 

“Shouldn’t I be doing the rowing?” Logan asked with a smirk. 

“Why? Because I’m the ‘helpless damsel’ in this relationship?” 

“You do have those fine high cheekbones.” 

Summers laughed. “Parity, Logan,” he said as Logan tied the boat when they reached the dock. “We’re either equals in this or we’re not doing ‘this’ at all.”

“I can live with that,” Logan agreed. 

They strapped their packs back on and Logan led the way once more to the predetermined campsite that he’d selected. 

“Do you do this often?” Scott asked as they now walked side-by-side. 

“Do what?” 

“Camping.” 

“Not as often as I’d like.” 

The campsite was only a short walk from the pond but at this point dusk had rapidly turned into twilight. Logan pulled out one of the emergency lights as he set to building a fire. Scott used his emergency light to start work on the tent. Logan helped him as soon as the fire was suitably blazing. Afterward, they both settled against a log in front of the fire.

“I suppose you thought about dinner?” Scott inquired. 

“Don’t expect anything fancy,” Logan warned him. 

“You? Fancy?” Scott repeated, trying not to laugh. “I’d expect the ‘classics,’” he said instead with a smile.

The ‘classics’ turned out to be a can of pork and beans, which Logan heated in a small saucepan over the fire, some rye bread, cheese and a surprisingly tasty beef jerky. The coup de grace, however, was the freshly brewed coffee that Logan made over the fire, after rinsing out the saucepan that had contained the pork and beans. 

“Wow,” Scott said, obviously impressed as he leaned back against the log with his steaming metal mug of coffee. “This is some of the best coffee I’ve ever had,” he admitted. 

“The classics,” Logan agreed, evidently pleased by Summers’ reaction.

Scott grinned at him before reaching over to his pack and pulling something out. “Here,” he said, handing Logan a chocolate bar. “It’s probably a bit melted now but it’s something for dessert.” 

Logan took the bar and read the label before ripping it open. “Sea Salt Dark Chocolate?” he said. “Now _that’s_ fancy, Summers.” 

Scott shrugged. “It’ll go great with this coffee,” he pointed out.

They enjoyed their coffee and ate the bar of chocolate in a comfortable silence. It was Scott who eventually licked the last of the chocolate off his fingers, put their mugs to the side and then eased himself into the other man’s lap, straddling Logan comfortably. 

“Didn’t think you’d be this forward, Summers,” Logan observed, but he’d already wrapped his arms around Scott’s waist. 

“Didn’t think you’d be so shy,” Scott replied. 

“Shy?” The note of incredulity in Logan’s voice was unmistakable. 

“Shy,” Scott confirmed. “That first night? Outside my bedroom? First of all, you took too long to decide whether or not to kiss me and when I decided that I’d just have to kiss you instead, you backed away.” 

That was precisely how Logan remembered that night as well but his stubborn streak wouldn’t allow him to give in. “Couldn’t be certain that a kiss wouldn’t have me blasted down the hallway,” he retorted. 

Scott merely laughed. “Shy,” he said again. “Or would ‘uncertain’ be more accurate?”

Logan had had enough. Less than a second later, Scott was flat on his back. “You’re starting to piss me off,” Logan warned him. 

“You’re easy to goad,” Scott pointed out. “You’re also heavier than you look,” he added. 

“Ya know, Slim, insulting me ain’t exactly the best way to seduce me.” 

“I think it’s the perfect way,” Scott countered, and when he put his hand at the back of Logan’s neck to pull the other man down for a kiss, Logan hardly objected.

As far as first kisses went, it was pretty darn good. They both tasted of chocolate and coffee. Logan’s stubble burn was a new sensation for Scott, but he didn’t find it unpleasant. On the contrary, he thought it was appropriate. Logan could be prickly and difficult, but worth the effort in the end. For all his uncertainty, Logan was also a damn fine kisser and Scott could feel himself getting swept away by the kiss. It was only when Logan’s roaming hands were unbuckling his belt and unzipping his fly that Scott broke away. 

“Hey,” he said, a little breathlessly. “Let’s take this inside.” 

Logan’s grin was wolfish as he braced himself on his forearms. “There ain’t nobody out here, y’know,” he said. “I’d be able to tell if we had an audience.”

“Let’s take it inside anyway,” Summers pursued. He was already getting up and Logan didn’t stop him. 

“Are you some blushing virgin, Slim?” Logan asked. 

Scott gave him a wry grin. “Hardly,” he said, holding out his hand to help Logan up. Logan grasped the proffered hand and Scott pulled him up. “But I like my privacy, whether we have an audience or not,” he added. He held Logan’s hand as he led them back to the tent and Logan had no choice but to follow.

* * * * *

Scott was a practical man and most of the time it also meant that he was a practical lover. He wasn’t big on romance, though he’d certainly made an effort for Jean knowing how much she appreciated it. Logan’s big romantic gesture – rowing them out to the middle of the pond to watch the sunset – had taken him off guard. He’d never thought of Wolverine as a romantic man either, but he was slowly starting to realize that for all the gruffness and unsentimentality that Logan displayed, he was probably more of a romantic than Scott would ever be.

Camping, however, didn’t strike Scott as particularly romantic and he inevitably stripped any kind of romance from the scenario. That explained why Logan was leisurely lying on the floor of their tent, their sleeping bags opened and connected to cover the hard earth, his head propped up in his hand as he watched Scott undress with that observant gaze of his. He didn’t say anything as Scott neatly folded his clothes and laid them beside Logan’s rumpled pile. 

By the time Scott was as naked as his partner, he resumed their former positions, straddling Logan once more. “Did you bring supplies?” he asked, dipping down to kiss the hollow of the other man’s throat.

“Supplies?” Logan repeated, his right hand running up Summers’ back. 

Scott stopped his exploration to look at Logan. “Condoms? Lube?” he suggested. 

Logan chuckled. “Ever the Boy Scout,” he commented. “I’m surprised _you_ didn’t bring supplies.” 

“I wasn’t thinking about sex,” Scott pointed out. “In fact, I didn’t think you were interested at all.” 

Suddenly, Logan’s hand was at the back of Scott’s head as he pulled the other man down for a fierce, possessive kiss. “I _am_ interested,” he said, flipping Scott off of him so that Scott landed lightly on the sleeping bags beside him. 

“Very interested,” Scott agreed, his hand now worming between their tangled bodies to grasp Logan’s rapidly hardening cock. “Supplies?” he said again, smearing some of the leaking precum he found across the tip of Logan’s cock. 

Logan groaned. “Didn’t think you’d put out on the first date,” he grumbled. 

“I think this counts as our second date,” Scott corrected him, his hand working an easy pace on Logan’s cock. “That’s a ‘no’ then? About the supplies?” 

Logan’s glare was enough of an answer. 

“What happened to those ‘classic’ moves of yours?” Scott chided him gently. 

“I was aiming for second or third base, Summers.” 

“How very chivalrous of you,” Scott laughed.

“Oh, fuck this,” Logan growled, hauling Scott back in for another kiss. 

Scott had to admit that Logan was a very good kisser. Wolverine had some classic technique, the way he coaxed and probed with his tongue, the gentle nibbling of Scott’s lower lip before he dived in again, sweeping Scott away with the heat of his kiss. Scott was tightly pressed against the other man now, and he hooked his left leg over Logan’s hip, bringing their erections into alignment so that he could work them both with his hand. The friction was divine. Logan was steadily thrusting against him now. Things were getting messy. Scott was leaking too. He didn’t think either of them was going to last long. Logan’s hand was still at the back of his head, pouring everything into that searing kiss. When Scott felt that involuntary convulsion that came with his climax, his cry was swallowed by Logan’s kiss as the other men held him through his orgasm, following Scott over that cliff soon afterwards.

* * * * *

They were still tangled together, facing each other, their stomachs sticky with their drying come. Scott knew he’d regret the mess in the morning, but right now he was too sated to do anything about it. Besides, Logan didn’t seem inclined to relinquish him any time soon.

“I’m going to blow you later,” Logan suddenly stated into the stillness of their tent. 

Scott laughed softly. “I have no objections to that,” he said, amused. “I’ll return the favor.” 

Logan was eyeing him thoughtfully. “When was the last time you did this?”

“This? You mean had sex?” 

“Had sex with a man,” Logan clarified. 

“You really thought I was some sort of blushing virgin?” That would explain Logan’s hesitation to go beyond second or third base. 

“That don’t really answer the question.” 

Scott knew that Logan was right. The other man had just called him out on one of his patented evasive tactics. He sighed. “It’s been a long time,” he admitted. “And those weren’t good experiences.”

“Whaddya mean?” 

Scott could literally feel Logan grow tense at the direction their conversation had gone. Wolverine’s protective instincts were coming to the fore. It was sweet. 

“Remember when we were playing pool and you were surprised that I used to hustle before the Professor found me?” he said, a little reluctantly. 

“I remember you said I’d be surprised at the other things you did before the Professor found you,” Logan replied. 

“I did a lot more than hustle,” Scott admitted. “I used to work for this guy named Jack O’Diamonds.” 

“Sounds like a real crook.” 

“He was.” 

“You hustled for him then?” 

“Among other things,” Scott said evasively.

It didn’t take Logan long to put things together. “Son of a bitch!” he exclaimed and Scott could feel the fury suddenly burst forth from his partner. 

He put his hand on Logan’s chest to placate him. “It was a long time ago,” he said reassuringly. “It was a whole other life.” 

“How old were you?” Logan demanded. 

Scott sighed. “Fifteen, sixteen,” he said. He’d been with that abusive asshole for a little over three years before the Professor found him. He thought of those years as ‘lost years’ and he’d locked those memories away in a box that he didn’t open.

Logan began to curse. “If we ever come across any of those perverts who touched you, I’ll rip their godamn hearts out,” he growled. 

Scott began to laugh softly, his hand now traveling up Logan’s shoulder to cup him along the side of the other man’s neck. “Be careful, Wolverine,” he teased. “Coming from you, that almost sounds romantic.” 

Logan let out another low growl, but Scott could hear the affection behind it. “Sure, bub,” Logan said. “Because nothing says ‘I love you’ like handing you some other guy’s bleeding heart on a silver platter.” He stopped abruptly, his eyes widening slightly as though realizing what he’d just said. “Not that –” he began to backtrack but Scott cut him off. 

“It’s just a figure of speech,” Scott said, his hand still resting on Logan’s neck. “Not that I think either one of us would throw around the . . . uh . . . ‘L’ word . . . so carelessly,” he added. “This isn’t . . .” Scott hesitated. He loathed his own uncertainty. 

“Isn’t what?” Logan prodded. 

“This isn’t just a one-time deal, is it?” 

Logan exhaled before shaking his head. “Nope,” he replied. He sounded relieved that Scott had brought that issue out into the open. 

Scott smiled, moving even closer to Logan if that were remotely possible, until he tucked his head underneath the other man’s chin. “Good,” he said. He felt content, like he could doze off at any moment. “Jean was right about you,” he said a little sleepily. He could feel Logan adjusting the sleeping bags, pulling one of the flaps over their bodies to act as a blanket. 

“Right about what?” Logan asked, settling beside Scott again and wrapping him in that warm embrace. 

“Beneath that gruff exterior, you’re just a big softie at heart.”

**Author's Note:**

> The merry mutants belong to Marvel and Fox. No offense is intended, no profit is being made.


End file.
